Magnetic
by Pandorama
Summary: Alternate ending to Hindsight. Abby offers comfort to a friend in need. Oneshot.


"I'm taking him home." She gazed evenly at Carter, her grip on the other man's elbow as firm as her tone.

Carter raised an eyebrow, clearly disapproving. "Can't someone else do that?"

"No." She was already prying the keys from Luka's hand. She shot him one last reproachful look before turning her back on Carter and leading a swaying Luka to the door.

The Viper was both terrifying and thrilling to drive, but equally exhilarating was defying him. Her mouth twisted into a wicked grin at the thought. Beside her, Luka sat, staring blankly out the window. His confession earlier that evening had caught her off guard, but it had also sent a strange emotion rushing through her, one she couldn't yet define. If nothing else, she missed who he had been. This cold, crass exterior wasn't the Luka she had made love with all those nights. He was as much a stranger as anyone.

He didn't speak until she'd parked and led him up the steps, not willing to leave him quite yet. As they entered the darkened apartment, his familiar scent flooded her senses. So this really was the same man – the one to whom these smells of Turkish coffee, of cigarette smoke, of mostly clean linen, and of musty cologne belonged. As he turned to her, she could see it in his eyes, as well. He was there, behind the exterior.

"Thank you for…" He faltered.

"It's nothing." She managed a tight smile. "Look, you should –"

"Abby." The urgency in his voice sent a shiver through her. His features had softened, suddenly looking far older and sadder than she'd recalled. "I don't…I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine."

"No." And for the second time that night, he summoned his liquid courage. "I miss you, Abby."

She had no response but to set her lips in a firm line and look up at him.

"I miss you," he repeated, slurring a bit this time.

"You're drunk."

"Not so drunk." He gazed down at her, revealing nothing. She turned to leave, but stopped. She could sense the shift in the atmosphere and turned to see his expression one of mild devastation, a chink in his armor. Her heart suddenly throbbed for him, an ache that went far deeper than she cared to reason with. He reached out a hand, finding hers, clasping her fingers in his cold palm with a desperate grip. "I don't want to be alone."

The harsh whisper went through her like wind, chilling her to the bone. And suddenly, she didn't want him to be alone, either. She nodded, a mere dip of her head, but enough for him to relax slightly.

She couldn't explain to herself why she did it, but it felt more right than most anything had in a long while. Tenderly, carefully, she led him up the stairs, allowing his weight to press against her as they climbed. Almost without realizing it, her head came to rest against his chest, mutually supporting one another. She stood motionless as he shed only his shoes and belt, eyeing her almost shyly. She shrugged gently, and he nodded in understanding before shedding his pants as well, slipping under the heavy quilt.

The urge to lie beside him suddenly overwhelmed her. It felt oddly comfortable to her as she slipped of her shoes, adding her jacket to the pile. Without a word, she slid in beside him, his eyes fixed on her. For so long, she'd thought those eyes to be blank, devoid of emotion. Only now, in their proximity, could she see how wrong she'd been. More emotions than she could identify swam in those eyes, more pain and hurt than she could bear to see, more loss than she wanted him to bear. Her fingers moved of their own accord to run gently though his hair, maternal comfort implicit.

"Thank you." His voice came out a thin tremolo, weak and defenseless and oddly magnetic.

Without another thought, she leaned up on one elbow and bent over him, placing a soft kiss to his lips as his arms circled her, holding on for dear life. As she sank against him, curling into his embrace, she felt the cold radiating from his skin melting away against her warm heat, his muscles go limp, the quiet no longer deafening as his breaths slowed and became even, lulled to a dreamless, peaceful sleep for the first time in many months.

In the morning, she would face the repercussions, but tonight it was where she wanted to be, beside him, holding him close and drifting to sleep in his arms.


End file.
